If you're interested in Djibouti you should become acquainted with Somalia. Because the two countries are geographical neighbors and both have a population of Somali's, the Somali's politics are also the Djiboutian's politics.
And if you've had a class with Dr. Jenista and are consequently addicted to reading up on the history, politics, and international relations of the international world, then you might find the following article insightful as it gives an overview of what's going on in Somalia:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/opinions/the-pen-is-mightier-than-the-gun-depends/article1645197/
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Summaries
I wish I could make recordings of my daily musings, moving pictures of people in action and life being lived. Then I would just copy and paste these things here for you all to get a fuller picture of my life in Djibouti. There is simply too much being digested, a sensory overload if you will, and I myself cannot type as fast as the information comes. Plus I'm just not a good story teller. I spend too much time in self-analysis mode... better as a journal-er, not blogger. I hope to get more pictures and videos on here in hope that you can learn through observation like I have. Plus there is a lot that I just can't explain in words; I've come to understandings that I'm not sure I can even articulate to myself. Evidence of my experiences will surely flow out of future conversations, decisions, and the like, and maybe then I will more fully grasp how this internship has affected me. But in the meantime, please don't be frustrated with me if you ask how my summer was and I just say, "ummm... it was hot?" This place has opened my eyes and influenced me in many ways. It is forever a part of me. Stick around and you'll see. :)
During the hottest time of year in the hottest region of the earth, one finds a lot more free time than she knows what to do with. Even the natives who have lived through many summers in Djibouti spend their days watching tv in air conditioning if they have it. It's difficult to get anyone to agree meeting with you before 5:30pm, until after the sun has started setting. Although Emily and I have adjusted to the heat and can use adjectives like cool, comfortable, and refreshing to describe 95 degrees, we still avoid the afternoon sun like the plague and resort to our small bedroom with a fan and air conditioner for many hours of the day. We've watched a lot of movies, we've spent a good deal of time reading books and surfing the internet, and we've found exercising to her various Bollywood dance workout DVDs to be a good alternative to the above activities. And I'm still running, too. I've been mentally challenged by movies and books and I've been able to reflect while running and hanging around the house. So the down time has been productive.
There are a handful of Djiboutians that I interact with on a regular basis and only now, 7 weeks in to this internship, have we become comfortable with our language and cultural barriers. I've considered sitting in silence with my language helper who does not speak English awkward and frustrating at times, but we've seemingly become more comfortable with the silence and are more effective in communicating through touches and smiles. I've noticed an increased level of comfortability with my English-speaking Djiboutian friends, too. We're learning more about each other, finding commonalities in our stories. You don't really think you can relate to someone from the other side of the world, but it's not true. I'm learning about human nature and the traits that are common among men regardless of the way the man has been nurtured.
Things aren't as new anymore. I'm getting used to the culture and the city, I'm learning Somali, and I can get myself around town. I'm adjusted to the heat and I finally have some friends here, but I'm still keeping a countdown until I'm back to familiarity. This internship has given me a greater appreciation of home, of course. And I think that I've been removed from it long enough to look at America objectively like I look at Djibouti. When I'm caught up in the details I forget that America isn't my home, either, that the people are no more or less valuable than Djiboutians, and that the American people are no closer to understanding Truth.
Two weeks until I hop on a plane and head back to the US to further process my time here and begin post-grad life. I still don't know what is next for me, but I'm sort of excited to figure it out.
During the hottest time of year in the hottest region of the earth, one finds a lot more free time than she knows what to do with. Even the natives who have lived through many summers in Djibouti spend their days watching tv in air conditioning if they have it. It's difficult to get anyone to agree meeting with you before 5:30pm, until after the sun has started setting. Although Emily and I have adjusted to the heat and can use adjectives like cool, comfortable, and refreshing to describe 95 degrees, we still avoid the afternoon sun like the plague and resort to our small bedroom with a fan and air conditioner for many hours of the day. We've watched a lot of movies, we've spent a good deal of time reading books and surfing the internet, and we've found exercising to her various Bollywood dance workout DVDs to be a good alternative to the above activities. And I'm still running, too. I've been mentally challenged by movies and books and I've been able to reflect while running and hanging around the house. So the down time has been productive.
There are a handful of Djiboutians that I interact with on a regular basis and only now, 7 weeks in to this internship, have we become comfortable with our language and cultural barriers. I've considered sitting in silence with my language helper who does not speak English awkward and frustrating at times, but we've seemingly become more comfortable with the silence and are more effective in communicating through touches and smiles. I've noticed an increased level of comfortability with my English-speaking Djiboutian friends, too. We're learning more about each other, finding commonalities in our stories. You don't really think you can relate to someone from the other side of the world, but it's not true. I'm learning about human nature and the traits that are common among men regardless of the way the man has been nurtured.
Things aren't as new anymore. I'm getting used to the culture and the city, I'm learning Somali, and I can get myself around town. I'm adjusted to the heat and I finally have some friends here, but I'm still keeping a countdown until I'm back to familiarity. This internship has given me a greater appreciation of home, of course. And I think that I've been removed from it long enough to look at America objectively like I look at Djibouti. When I'm caught up in the details I forget that America isn't my home, either, that the people are no more or less valuable than Djiboutians, and that the American people are no closer to understanding Truth.
Two weeks until I hop on a plane and head back to the US to further process my time here and begin post-grad life. I still don't know what is next for me, but I'm sort of excited to figure it out.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Somali militants claim Kampala blasts
Talking about this news with a Ugandan from Kampala while in a country with people of the same nationality as Al-Shabab changes the way I think about and pray for the situation and the people involved. Such a mess we humans are.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/worSaturday, June 26, 2010
Arabia
I really wish I knew what Paul was doing in Arabia for three years after he came to believe.
I am beginning to understand that life transformation does not come immediately after becoming a believer. Perhaps Paul was working out his salvation which is something that comes after salvation. Perhaps he didn't know of the power now invested in him until he spent time putting it into practice. Trial and error. Failed attempts used to grow; strength developed over time. Pursuit over and over again.
In many respects, I feel as though I am still in Arabia.
I am beginning to understand that life transformation does not come immediately after becoming a believer. Perhaps Paul was working out his salvation which is something that comes after salvation. Perhaps he didn't know of the power now invested in him until he spent time putting it into practice. Trial and error. Failed attempts used to grow; strength developed over time. Pursuit over and over again.
In many respects, I feel as though I am still in Arabia.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Home for Refugees
Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known?
God give me courage to show you... you are not alone.
-Phantom of the Opera
God give me courage to show you... you are not alone.
-Phantom of the Opera
Revolution come free us, Holy Brother
us desert wanderers have no place to call home
Physician come heal us, Holy Mender
us blind ol lepers can not find our way home
Refugee just like me please don't leave, You're our only....
Compassion come save us, Holy Lover
us warmongers ruined this place we call home
Refugee just like me please don't leave You're our only... home, home
Banner wave high for the lowly
wave the suffering Chi Rho
stand with your Love of long ago
He's the Home.... for refugees.
-Psalters
us desert wanderers have no place to call home
Physician come heal us, Holy Mender
us blind ol lepers can not find our way home
Refugee just like me please don't leave, You're our only....
Compassion come save us, Holy Lover
us warmongers ruined this place we call home
Refugee just like me please don't leave You're our only... home, home
Banner wave high for the lowly
wave the suffering Chi Rho
stand with your Love of long ago
He's the Home.... for refugees.
-Psalters
Monday, June 21, 2010
Information Overload
Tomorrow, Emily and I will have been here a month! Wow. I'm glad this internship is longer than a month because I'm only just now feeling settled.
Sorry that the first picture I posted was of an eyeless cat. I have my camera here, but I'm very hesitant to use it. Photography is a great creative outlet for me and I continue to love it despite the conversations I've had with Ashley about how photography, like all art, can manipulate your emotions and glorify the mundane, provoking you to have a false perspective of life. It can be dangerous and detrimental to people like Ashley and me who are so easily influenced by our emotions. But... I still love expressing myself through photography. Here, though, I feel so strange snapping shots of every day life. I am quite clearly a foreigner, but I'm not here for holiday or to visit the French or American military bases. I am living among these people for 2 months, trying to become a Djiboutian in word and deed. I think walking around town in my Djiboutian clothing with an expensive camera in hand puts a greater emphasis on my otherness.... it reminds everyone that I am not one of them and that their way of doing things is different than mine, evidenced by my photo taking. I don't know, maybe it would be fine. I just feel strange about it now. I hope to take pictures of people and town after I've been apart of it for awhile, when its not all new and exotic to me and when I am able to ask people for permission to take their picture. Until then... here are the few pictures that I've taken from afar, out of the eye-sight of the natives plus a few from Emily's camera.
These two were taken by Emily when we went to Awo's (Kristie's french language helper) house for Henna. Except it's not called henna because they use black hair dye instead of the traditional reddish henna on their skin. It looks great on them, but with our white skin we look sort of gothic. Also, you can see me wearing a traditional Djiboutian dress. I bartered for it in the market.
This was taken during the middle of the day when the sun is hottest. People go home to nap and just get out of the sun. Thus, the streets are empty. On this day Kristie, Emily, Awo, and I were on our way to an Ethiopian house restaurant for lunch. I've had so much Ethiopian food here- mmmm.
This is what the electrical outlets look like here. It looks like an emoticon to me, so I like it.
Don't mind my strange facial expression. This is my favorite head scarf.
This is the roof that I once tried to sleep on. My mattress was the white one, the red one Hannahs. Yeah, I had a fan and everything, but with the hot air and radiating tiles, it was nearly 100 degrees.
Here is Balbala, the neighborhood my old apartment is in.
Makeshift homes. Belong to the really poor population of Djibouti city.
Our neighbor's makeshift roof for sleeping
On the picture's horizon you can see the ocean and Djibouti's port.
The rest are Emily's pictures. Left to right: Rosario, the friend of Biden (I forget her name!), Biden, Kristie, Emily, Hannah, myself, Udbe. This is at Planete Hollywood.
Emily and I eating the Ethiopian food we helped Awo make at home :)
Awo on the left and Neema, our houseworker, on the right eating Ethiopian
Additional random pieces of information:
1. I'm getting so much language exposure here. The official language is French, but most speak Somali and some Afar and Arabic, too. In one day it would be possible for me to hear 7 different languages being spoken around me! It's really cool. I'm taking formal Somali language lessons 3 times a week and studying French on my own with Rosetta Stone. I know of some native Spanish speaking workers here, so I'm hoping to practice my Spanish, too. Africa is a great place for people who love languages.
2. The Coke here is AMAZING. Kristie says they use real sugar opposed to high fructose corn syrup. It tastes different. Really. So much better. Coke and dark chocolate have become comfort foods for me here. But to be honest, all the food is great. With the French influence, we have access to a lot of good French food. Way better quality than the stuff we eat in the US. In one of the documentaries I watched or maybe from a book I read about the food industry in the US, I've learned that despite Americans need to have the best in clothing, cars, and whatever else, they typically want to pay the least amount of money possible on food. This is why we have such nasty meat-producing systems in place and inject and spray our food with hormones and chemicals in order to get more food in less amount of time in the cheapest way possible. I could go on and on about my disgust with America's food industry, but I will refrain. Just know that the French and Djiboutians eat REAL food and it tastes so good.
3. I've been dancing along to the Bollywood dance DVDs that Emily brought with her and it is sooo much fun. A few nights ago, Emily, Kristie, and I did it together for the first time and afterwards celebrated our success by watching one of Emily's many Bollywood movies. I'm being exposed to so many different cultures and I absolutely love it. And with all this physical activity, I'm becoming so physically strong. It feels glorious.
4. I like being in Africa while the World Cup is here. I wish that I could go to South Africa and be a part of the festivities since I'm soooo much closer than I would normally be, but it's still cool to be among Africans while it's being hosted on this continent. Last week while out to dinner at "Planete Hollywood" (the extra 'e' is not a mistake), the game was on the tv and Djiboutians were blowing their own vuvuzelas in tune with the vuvuzelas on the tv. AND, in case you didn't know, K'naan, the guy who sings the world cup anthem is Somali and is being bragged about all over Djibouti.
5. I'm quite sad to have missed by brother's graduation ceremony, but luckily I was able to be Skyped in for his graduation party on Saturday. I am nearly 7,000 miles away, 7 hours ahead, an entire ocean apart, and I was able to see people walking through my backyard in Brownstown, Michigan with only a small delay. Technology is insane.
Sorry that the first picture I posted was of an eyeless cat. I have my camera here, but I'm very hesitant to use it. Photography is a great creative outlet for me and I continue to love it despite the conversations I've had with Ashley about how photography, like all art, can manipulate your emotions and glorify the mundane, provoking you to have a false perspective of life. It can be dangerous and detrimental to people like Ashley and me who are so easily influenced by our emotions. But... I still love expressing myself through photography. Here, though, I feel so strange snapping shots of every day life. I am quite clearly a foreigner, but I'm not here for holiday or to visit the French or American military bases. I am living among these people for 2 months, trying to become a Djiboutian in word and deed. I think walking around town in my Djiboutian clothing with an expensive camera in hand puts a greater emphasis on my otherness.... it reminds everyone that I am not one of them and that their way of doing things is different than mine, evidenced by my photo taking. I don't know, maybe it would be fine. I just feel strange about it now. I hope to take pictures of people and town after I've been apart of it for awhile, when its not all new and exotic to me and when I am able to ask people for permission to take their picture. Until then... here are the few pictures that I've taken from afar, out of the eye-sight of the natives plus a few from Emily's camera.
These two were taken by Emily when we went to Awo's (Kristie's french language helper) house for Henna. Except it's not called henna because they use black hair dye instead of the traditional reddish henna on their skin. It looks great on them, but with our white skin we look sort of gothic. Also, you can see me wearing a traditional Djiboutian dress. I bartered for it in the market.
This was taken during the middle of the day when the sun is hottest. People go home to nap and just get out of the sun. Thus, the streets are empty. On this day Kristie, Emily, Awo, and I were on our way to an Ethiopian house restaurant for lunch. I've had so much Ethiopian food here- mmmm.
This is what the electrical outlets look like here. It looks like an emoticon to me, so I like it.
Don't mind my strange facial expression. This is my favorite head scarf.
This is the roof that I once tried to sleep on. My mattress was the white one, the red one Hannahs. Yeah, I had a fan and everything, but with the hot air and radiating tiles, it was nearly 100 degrees.
Here is Balbala, the neighborhood my old apartment is in.
Makeshift homes. Belong to the really poor population of Djibouti city.
Our neighbor's makeshift roof for sleeping
On the picture's horizon you can see the ocean and Djibouti's port.
The rest are Emily's pictures. Left to right: Rosario, the friend of Biden (I forget her name!), Biden, Kristie, Emily, Hannah, myself, Udbe. This is at Planete Hollywood.
Emily and I eating the Ethiopian food we helped Awo make at home :)
Awo on the left and Neema, our houseworker, on the right eating EthiopianAdditional random pieces of information:
1. I'm getting so much language exposure here. The official language is French, but most speak Somali and some Afar and Arabic, too. In one day it would be possible for me to hear 7 different languages being spoken around me! It's really cool. I'm taking formal Somali language lessons 3 times a week and studying French on my own with Rosetta Stone. I know of some native Spanish speaking workers here, so I'm hoping to practice my Spanish, too. Africa is a great place for people who love languages.
2. The Coke here is AMAZING. Kristie says they use real sugar opposed to high fructose corn syrup. It tastes different. Really. So much better. Coke and dark chocolate have become comfort foods for me here. But to be honest, all the food is great. With the French influence, we have access to a lot of good French food. Way better quality than the stuff we eat in the US. In one of the documentaries I watched or maybe from a book I read about the food industry in the US, I've learned that despite Americans need to have the best in clothing, cars, and whatever else, they typically want to pay the least amount of money possible on food. This is why we have such nasty meat-producing systems in place and inject and spray our food with hormones and chemicals in order to get more food in less amount of time in the cheapest way possible. I could go on and on about my disgust with America's food industry, but I will refrain. Just know that the French and Djiboutians eat REAL food and it tastes so good.
3. I've been dancing along to the Bollywood dance DVDs that Emily brought with her and it is sooo much fun. A few nights ago, Emily, Kristie, and I did it together for the first time and afterwards celebrated our success by watching one of Emily's many Bollywood movies. I'm being exposed to so many different cultures and I absolutely love it. And with all this physical activity, I'm becoming so physically strong. It feels glorious.
4. I like being in Africa while the World Cup is here. I wish that I could go to South Africa and be a part of the festivities since I'm soooo much closer than I would normally be, but it's still cool to be among Africans while it's being hosted on this continent. Last week while out to dinner at "Planete Hollywood" (the extra 'e' is not a mistake), the game was on the tv and Djiboutians were blowing their own vuvuzelas in tune with the vuvuzelas on the tv. AND, in case you didn't know, K'naan, the guy who sings the world cup anthem is Somali and is being bragged about all over Djibouti.
5. I'm quite sad to have missed by brother's graduation ceremony, but luckily I was able to be Skyped in for his graduation party on Saturday. I am nearly 7,000 miles away, 7 hours ahead, an entire ocean apart, and I was able to see people walking through my backyard in Brownstown, Michigan with only a small delay. Technology is insane.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Violence
Violence is not typically found in Djibouti among it's people.
This isn't because Somalis are a peace-keeping, saving-face kind of people, for I have seen and heard things which give evidence that Somalis as a tough group of people who deal with each other roughly. And this truth is partially why their home country is in such a state of disarray, says some here. Merely belonging to a different Somali tribe is grounds for exclusion and hate between two Somali people. And the relationship between the Somali and Afar (the other major people group here) is not all that great, either. Conflict arises as it would in any other place that has a population divided between two or more ethnicities. Afars and Somalis which have for the last several decades been rather nomadic people groups call the same country home, and a desire for a peaceful, homogeneous nation probably sounds pretty good to both groups. There are arguments and there are fist fights, and hostility toward the "outsider/intruder" remains in some Somali and Afar hearts, but their fighting is rarely anything violent which is both shocking and respectable.
Violence is rare between people here, but you should know that it is not completely absent. Here, major violence can be found among the cats. Probably between goats, donkeys, dogs, camels, monkeys, flamingos, and every other animal in the country, but I'm only certain of it between the cats. I usually don't see how the fights begin or end, but on more than one occasion I have heard the loud cries of cats in a pretty nasty brawl outside. Today was the first time that I saw some consequence of the violence that takes place outside my bedroom window nearly every night.
As Kristie, Emily and I were leaving for language lesson today, we saw a poor, skinny cat sitting outside our door. This sight is nothing new since there's usually 2-3 cats outside our apartment every time we walk outside because of the shade the building creates, but this cat was cowering in a way that is not so normal. I walked toward it and crouched down to get a look and saw that it's right eye was missing and replaced with dried blood and crust! A piece of straw or maybe a stick was stuck to the bloody fur and the cat looked like it was in a terrible amount of pain. Horrible cat violence leaves this cat with one eye and who knows what sort of wounds his opponent has.
After we got home from language I came back outside with some water for the cat and sat down across the walk-way. I looked it in the eye trying to communicate compassion while it cried over and over again. We aren't on the same brainwave, I know, but I had hope that it could comprehend through eye contact that I am concerned and want to help it. I don't know whether that was communicated or not, but the cat continued to cry and hiss when I got close so I left the water and went back inside. Violence is misery for those that fight and for those who have to look at its consequences. I'm thankful that Djibouti is currently a safe country for its people, but I'm reminded by animal instinct that violence is not far from a created and fallen being.
This isn't because Somalis are a peace-keeping, saving-face kind of people, for I have seen and heard things which give evidence that Somalis as a tough group of people who deal with each other roughly. And this truth is partially why their home country is in such a state of disarray, says some here. Merely belonging to a different Somali tribe is grounds for exclusion and hate between two Somali people. And the relationship between the Somali and Afar (the other major people group here) is not all that great, either. Conflict arises as it would in any other place that has a population divided between two or more ethnicities. Afars and Somalis which have for the last several decades been rather nomadic people groups call the same country home, and a desire for a peaceful, homogeneous nation probably sounds pretty good to both groups. There are arguments and there are fist fights, and hostility toward the "outsider/intruder" remains in some Somali and Afar hearts, but their fighting is rarely anything violent which is both shocking and respectable.
Violence is rare between people here, but you should know that it is not completely absent. Here, major violence can be found among the cats. Probably between goats, donkeys, dogs, camels, monkeys, flamingos, and every other animal in the country, but I'm only certain of it between the cats. I usually don't see how the fights begin or end, but on more than one occasion I have heard the loud cries of cats in a pretty nasty brawl outside. Today was the first time that I saw some consequence of the violence that takes place outside my bedroom window nearly every night.
As Kristie, Emily and I were leaving for language lesson today, we saw a poor, skinny cat sitting outside our door. This sight is nothing new since there's usually 2-3 cats outside our apartment every time we walk outside because of the shade the building creates, but this cat was cowering in a way that is not so normal. I walked toward it and crouched down to get a look and saw that it's right eye was missing and replaced with dried blood and crust! A piece of straw or maybe a stick was stuck to the bloody fur and the cat looked like it was in a terrible amount of pain. Horrible cat violence leaves this cat with one eye and who knows what sort of wounds his opponent has.
After we got home from language I came back outside with some water for the cat and sat down across the walk-way. I looked it in the eye trying to communicate compassion while it cried over and over again. We aren't on the same brainwave, I know, but I had hope that it could comprehend through eye contact that I am concerned and want to help it. I don't know whether that was communicated or not, but the cat continued to cry and hiss when I got close so I left the water and went back inside. Violence is misery for those that fight and for those who have to look at its consequences. I'm thankful that Djibouti is currently a safe country for its people, but I'm reminded by animal instinct that violence is not far from a created and fallen being.
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